


Horseplay

by Redangel228



Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Emotionally Repressed, M/M, Sexual Repression, Surprise Kissing, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29070942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redangel228/pseuds/Redangel228
Summary: A new lieutenant with new-fangled ideas joins Button House.  The Captain finds him disconcerting.
Relationships: The Captain (Ghosts TV 2019)/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Horseplay

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to write another Rickbond but this wouldn't leave me alone

‘Explain this to me again, Lieutenant Halland’ The Captain tucked his swagger stick under his arm and looked sternly at the recent arrival to Button House

‘Well sir, we thought we might introduce some new exercises that combine PT with tactics, it’s all the rage at HQ’

The Captain raised himself on to his toes and lowered again. ‘Understood but I fail to see where I come in’ The lieutenant had a disconcerting air about him. Whenever they had spoken, the Captain always came away feeling a little flustered and he didn’t like it.

Halland coughed. He knew this wasn’t going to go down well. The others had chosen him, as the newest addition to the unit, to broach the subject. ‘Well, sir, um, the lads, er, that is, um, the others, er thought that, you, um, might like to take part. Might be fun, sir’

‘Fun? Fun! There’s a bally war on Lieutenant, we’re not here to have fun!’

Halland squirmed. ‘No, sir, we understand that but, well, perhaps there’s no harm in training in a new way….?’ He petered out. This was going exactly as expected, oh well, might as well be brave. ‘If I may speak freely, sir, the boys say that you don’t often join them and…’

‘I’m not here to fraternise, Halland, I’m here to lead. I need to maintain dignity and respect’ The Captain straightened his already perfectly straight tie.

‘Yes, sir, of course, sir. But perhaps they would appreciate you leading by example. Sir.’

The Captain swallowed. In truth, though he would rather face a firing squad than admit it, he was rather hurt not to be included in the officers’ social goings on. Christmas had been particularly lonely. And although he maintained his physical fitness as befitted a man in his position, he no longer trained with the men. Perhaps he _should_ set an example.

‘Hmmm’ he appeared to contemplate the suggestion ‘And supposing I were to agree?’

‘You could join us at 1400 hours, sir, in PT kit. Lieutenant Bridges will lead the session’ Halland held his breath. He hadn’t believed for a second that the starchy Captain, so mimicked by his men, would agree. But his heart jumped at the thought of more time with this man. He was so buttoned up, so contained but Halland felt somewhere in there was a person he would like to know much better.

‘Right, jolly good’ The Captain cleared his throat. ‘I’ll consider it. Dismissed’

The lieutenant saluted smartly, turned and left the office. The captain walked to the window stiffly and watched as the men ran across the grounds. There was that disconcerting feeling again. Halland always left him feeling wrongfooted. He had transferred recently, full of new ideas and the latest thinking. He made the captain feel like a dinosaur or, what was it he overhead the men say, a smelly old walrus. But something about his bright-eyed enthusiasm stirred up a desire to _please_ him and the captain found himself agreeing to unexpected things.

The captain turned and sat at his desk. At least paperwork was reliable and consistent.

At 1300 hours the Captain made a decision. He was damned if he would exercise with lower ranks, it was just not done. 

At 1330 he reconsidered. Lead by example. Show the men what he was made of. Shut up the dissenters, if any existed. Provide evidence that he supported the new approach.

At 1345 he was back to square one. And cross. He was a decisive man in a position of responsibility, he would not be held hostage to these fluctuating opinions.

At 1400 hours the Captain presented himself, in kit, on the parade ground. He tried to ignore the murmurings and glances of the men who all slammed to attention as he approached. He strode, more confidently than he felt, to Lieutenants Halland and Bridges and saluted.

‘At ease’ The noise of the unit’s boots as they moved position.

The captain turned to address them.

‘Lieutenant Bridges will be leading today’s PT and I will be taking part alongside you. For the duration of this session you may treat me as your training partner. I want to see commitment’

He turned back to Bridges, nodded his head formally and then took his place in the front row.

Bridges stepped forward.

‘Half of you will be given one of these pennants’ he held aloft a red triangle of fabric. ‘The task of the other half is to capture a pennant and return to base. Use whatever tactics you feel necessary. Pennant holders will leave the parade ground with a two minute head start, pennant chasers will follow. Abbot through to Martindale step forward, you will be the pennant holders. Matthews through to Yeoman, pennant chasers.’

The captain waited in position, watching the pennant holders collect their flags and leave the parade ground without moving his head. Bridges started the stopwatch.

‘Pennant chasers….ready….set…. go’

The captain ran forward, uncertain of his tactics but keen to show a good example. His eyes scanned the territory for enemy movements. A flash of red in the trees at the end of the field. He fixed on it and ran, dodging over the uneven ground. As he approached the trees, all was still. It was a beautiful afternoon, full of sunshine and birdsong. For a distracted moment, he realised he was always on duty and never allowed himself a second to enjoy these things. Of course, he reminded himself sternly, there was a war on, our men at the front weren’t listening to birdsong. But still…

Another flash of red, further into the trees, brought him back to his senses. He moved forward carefully, stealthily tracking the enemy from behind convenient trees, following the pennant holder across the woods.

Soon the trees cleared to show a meadow, full of long grass and wildflowers. The pennant holder had given up on coverage and was making a break for it across the field. The captain shouted ‘For King and Country’ and charged across the open land towards him. The pennant holder turned at the sound and the captain realised it was Halland. Halland took one look at the captain and shot off towards the next band of trees. The captain sped up, no thoughts except his mission. He closed on Halland and was just about to reach out to grab him when he lost his footing on the uneven ground. 

With a cry he turned his fall into a roll and barrelled into Halland knocking the younger man off his feet and landing sprawled on his back next to him. There as a tense moment of silence before the captain began to laugh. With relief, Halland broke into laughter too.

‘Well done, sir’ Halland said with twinkling eyes ‘I think you got me, I surrender’

‘Mine then I think’ the captain turned away a little from Halland to reach for the pennant that had been dropped in the fall. But Halland was quicker. He reached over the captain and put his hand on the discarded piece of fabric, holding himself over the captain who found himself pinned to the ground by Halland’s weight. The world fell silent. There were no birds, no breeze, no men, no war. Halland lent forward and tenderly pressed his lips to the captain’s. For a moment, all was stillness. Even the relentless voice in the captain’s head stopped. And then reality came roaring back. The captain sat up, pushing Halland away and shouting

‘Bally hell, man, what are you doing? I’ll have you up on a charge!’ He got to his feet, Halland knocked backwards. ‘Get up, man!’ his face going red with sudden rush of humiliation and anger. He faced Halland, body poised to fight, shaking with fury.

Halland scrambled upright. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sir, just horseplay’ he gabbled ‘It never happened, there’s no one here, I’ll never ever speak of it again, I’m sorry’ All the words fell out at once. He raised his eyes nervously to the captain’s livid face, half expecting to be punched as well as court martialled. 

The captain swallowed hard and tried to regain his composure. He looked at the petrified lieutenant and anger drained out of him. He hadn’t realised how much affection he had come to have for the younger man and whatever else he felt, rage was difficult to maintain.

He coughed and straightened his clothing, keeping a stern look on his face, he couldn’t show any weakness now. Halland stared at the ground. The muscles in the captain’s jaw flexed as he gritted his teeth and he stretched his neck out as if his collar might choke him.

‘I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, lieutenant’ he said with all the poise he could manage. He bent to pick up the pennant. ‘Captured it fair and square, that’s all that happened here. Back to the parade ground, quick march’

Halland saluted and stared straight ahead ‘Yes sir!’ and took off across the field at a brisk pace.

The captain turned to follow him, moving more slowly. He raised his hand and gently touched his lip contemplatively. There were many possible emotions to feel in this moment but the captain was not one to allow unnecessary sentiment. Alone in the meadow he coughed and visibly straightened himself out. Whatever that was, it was staying out here.

**Author's Note:**

> This stands alone as a story set in the Ghosts universe but taken as a description of a scene from the show it precedes 'Is that a pistol?' which follows the actors playing The Captain and Halland after they leave the set.


End file.
